


Birthday Drabbles

by megyal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday Presents, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-09
Updated: 2010-05-09
Packaged: 2017-10-23 04:13:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These were written for my own birthday! I asked people to give prompts and these were my gifts to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Into the Darkness We Can Fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steampunk theme.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For: [](http://slashedsilver.livejournal.com/profile)[**slashedsilver**](http://slashedsilver.livejournal.com/) | Harry/Draco [Harry Potter AU] | PG | 707 words | [Prompt link [2nd prompt]](http://megyal.livejournal.com/377147.html?thread=9248571#t9248571)  
>   
> 

Draco tried to find a comfortable position in his cage to sit, and gritted his teeth when he could not. His little mechanical wings fluttered in agitation, and he shifted on the bars so that they poked outside.

"Potter!" he yelled, squinting into the wide space of the warehouse to which they had been dragged; there were holes in the walls that let in mote-drenched beams of light, but otherwise, the place was still and dark. "Potter, what are you doing over there?"

There had been a constant sound of tinkering from Potter's cage, ever since the massive door had been slammed shut.

After a few beats, during which Draco was making faces in the gloom, Potter muttered, "I'm pulling apart my wings."

"What for?!" Draco leaned forward, grabbing the bars and holding on tight. "Are you _mad_?" Draco's wings were small, delicate things that moved quickly to keep him aloft. He was proud of their design; they were strong for their size, and quite elegant. Potter's submission for the Icarus Competition, however, were massive and almost intimidating; multiple pairs of wings that moved independently of each other. When he had attached them to himself, the judges and other contestants had gazed in awe, Draco included.

However, that was before Voldemort's DeathMachines barged in, snatching up both Potter and Draco; apparently, Draco was further insurance that his parents would remain loyal to Lord Voldemort; also, Harry had a worse fate; it was Voldemort's mad plan to transplant Potter's heart into his own chest-plate at the proper time. Voldemort was utterly insane and Draco felt that he was owed the chance to say 'I told you so' to his parents.

"Don't pull them apart!" Draco cried out, suddenly desperate. Those wings were a work of art; Potter didn't have the same Machinist background as Draco, he didn't have the generations of expertise and knowledge behind his name, but he had sheer unbridled genius in his favour; machines seemed to spring to full mechanical life from his fingers. Even Professor Snape had grudgingly admitted this once when Draco had been visiting in his office.

Potter laughed a little, and it sounded surprised. "They're just wings. I'll build new ones, but I need a few parts now. I'll take apart the lower wings and just... use those extra parts... _now_." The huffing between his words coincided with sharp cracking sounds that just broke Draco's heart. He imagined the huge wings being taken to pieces and he pressed his forehead against one of the bars.

"Potter--"

"Look, do you want to get out of here, or not?" Potter sounded seriously peeved, and afraid as well. Draco blinked into the gloom. Potter was _Ironheart_ , he who had _survived_ ; he shouldn't be afraid.

"No need to get all snippy," Draco muttered and heard a faint snort. "Can you see what you're doing?"

"No. I can feel my way along, though. Almost done... damn. Right. Finished." Potter was breathing sharply. "Let's hope they work? I'm putting back my wings together now."

"What have you built?" Draco tried to peer through the shadows, but nothing was clear. "Have you enough energy to power it?"

"I really hope so," Potter said uncertainly and then four bright lights flashed a few meters away; flares, probably dug out from Potter's pockets. Draco turned away from the brightness, but he heard a rapid clicking; a small, blue, mechanical bird flew up to his cage and chirped rustily.

"A _bird_?" Draco scrunched up his face. "What can a bird do?"

He looked in the direction of Potter's cage, and his jaw fell slack at the sight of Potter stepping out from the crumpled bars. His wings were considerably smaller, just one set instead of the stack of three that had amazed so many people; another small bird hovered near him.

"Go get help," Potter told this one very gently. It zoomed off, finding one of the small holes and squirming through. One of the flares died out, but Draco could see the first bird attacking the bars of his cage, snapping cleanly through each one and bending it back.

A whirl of flapping caused Draco's hair to whirl around his face and he looked up as Potter flew close and held out his hand.

Dazed, Draco took it.

 _fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **AN:** I had already done something for that very image in my [Hypothetical AU Meme](http://megyal.livejournal.com/318979.html?thread=7990531#t7990531), and that kind of has a background if you want to read it (I think its helpful for this ficlet too? There are a few changes, though); so I'll just try to focus on the particular scene in the fanart.   
>  based on [Upon the Wings of Your Design](http://community.livejournal.com/hd_fanart/117259.html)


	2. Lessons Learned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crossover: Harry and Draco fall into the world of Naruto (Naruto/Sasuke).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For: [](http://animeartistjo.livejournal.com/profile)[**animeartistjo**](http://animeartistjo.livejournal.com/)
> 
> [Prompt link](http://megyal.livejournal.com/377147.html?thread=9247547#t9247547)

"All right," Auror Malfoy said as he clambered down out of the tree in which he had landed. "I dare say that this has been a day of many helpful lessons."

"Right," Auror Potter agreed, sitting up slowly from his own spot in the tall grass. Nothing seemed to be broken, good.

"Yes." Draco brushed at the front of his robes, fastidiously picking a few leaves out of his bright hair. "So. What have we learned?"

"When chasing an evil genius, it's helpful to wait for back-up." Harry eyed the hand Draco held out, decided it wasn't going to strike him, and took it. He grunted as Draco hauled him to his feet.

"Anything else?" Draco looked around the clearing, and then struck out for the edge of it; they appeared to be on top of a massive, rocky cliff.

Harry followed him, saying meekly, "When said evil genius throws a strange object and says, 'catch', it's best to let it fall."

Draco gave him a sour look. "Exactly. Especially when said evil genius has been known to experiment with merging Time-turners and Portkeys. We even have evidence of him researching the Muggle theory of _black holes_ , Potter, and you just grabbed that dodgy thing out of the air as if you were trying to win the game... good Merlin."

Harry had to agree with those last two words in Draco's rant. The view from the edge of the cliff was breathtaking. Oddly-shaped buildings radiated out from a central point near the cliff, which had huge faces carved into the side of it.

"Where are we?" Harry whispered in wonder. They obviously weren't in London any more; it had been rainy spring evening when they had been chasing down Pratt and this strange place was almost blindingly caught up in summer.

Draco's wand slid into his hand out of his sleeve, neat as anything. "Point me," he commanded. The wand spun in his palm, and showed no inclination of stopping. "What the _hell_ \--"

A quick movement out of the corner of his eye was the only thing that alerted Harry to the fact that they were not alone anymore. He spun around, letting his own wand slide out. Where there had been nothing but grass, two men were staring at them quite openly. There was nothing hostile about their stance, but Harry had the feeling that they would jump into action if necessary.

"Hello," Harry said and the two strangers looked quickly at each other, then back to him and his partner. They were dressed in odd clothing, green flak-jackets over long-sleeved dark shirts and dark trousers. There were odd white wrappings around their ankles and thighs, and metal plate attached to a cloth which was tied around their heads; the metal plate had a stylized image of a leaf. For their part, they stared with great interest at Harry's jeans and Draco's trousers.

Draco stepped forward. "Who are you? Where are we?"

One of the strangers, a man with impossibly yellow hair, shook his head and said something in a foreign tongue. His companion looked completely bored now, but Harry's Auror instincts screamed that he was one to be very careful of.

Harry leaned close to Draco."What language is that?"

Draco said, "It sounds like... _Japanese_."

They stared at each other for a very long time, and then raised their wands. The two men stepped back, but not to run away; their bodies were radiating a ready defensiveness.

"Wait, no," Harry tried to explain. "We're just... wait," he waved his wand at his own throat. " _Verto_ Japanese," he said, and made a face at the spell as it washed over his face. When Draco did his own spell, he said, "Can you understand me now?"

"Yeah," the yellow-haired man said in surprise. "I can. Who are you? Is that a jutsu that made you change your speech?"

"We're Aurors. From England." Harry blinked. "What's a jutsu?"

"Where's England?" The man asked, his blue eyes bright with curiosity. "Is that one of the other Five Great Countries?"

"I doubt it," the other man finally drawled, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I've never heard of it before." His dark eyes locked on Harry coldly. "State your name and purpose."

"I'm Harry, and this is Draco. And we have no idea where we're are now, much less any purpose."

"Oh, you're _lost_!" The blond man grinned at them and Harry couldn't help but smile back. He had weird thin markings on his cheeks, like whiskers, but that didn't detract from the fact that he had a very nice face. "I'm Naruto. This is Sasuke." He jerked a thumb at his colleague. "He's a frigid bastard, don't mind him."

"I've had my own experience with frigid bastards," Harry laughed and received an elbow to the ribs from Draco, so hard that he had to cough a little. "We... we were chasing down a criminal and ended up here... wherever here is."

"Well, this is Konoha." Naruto spread out his arms, his smile still wide. "You guys set off the perimeter alarms! We got sent up here to inspect and destroy if necessary, but you guys seem cool."

"You trust people too much," Sasuke muttered, folding his arms over his chest.

"I have good people-senses!" Naruto bellowed and Sasuke turned his head away. Naruto narrowed his eyes at the side of Sasuke's face and then looked back at Harry and Draco. "Are you up to no good?"

"We're up to plenty of good," Harry said with deep earnest, at the same time Draco said, "We just need to go back where we came from, right now. Other Aurors... our kind of policemen, they're probably working on it as we speak."

Draco's timing could not have been better. As soon as he said that, a slender pillar of white light suddenly blazed into existence a few meters away; it stretched and widened a little, revealing a dark slit at its core.

"Harry! Malfoy!"

Harry darted forward at the agitated yells which echoed out of the crackling light. "Ron!"

"We can't hold this open for long, we need more power!"

"Hurry, Potter," Draco said and pointed his wand at the column of light; blue light shot out of the tip, hitting the shadowy center. It widened just a bit more, and the darkness seemed to flitter away when Harry added his own energy, revealing Ron and about seven other Aurors doing the same in the dark dungeons that Pratt had been working in. The light wavered and nearly collapsed on itself; it dimmed, and seemed on the point of disappearing.

"More!" Ron's shout was now very faint. Harry had no idea where they were going to draw more _from_ ; sweat was pouring down his back and he could see Draco's wand-arm shaking with exertion.

" _Wind release! Rasengan!_ "

Harry stumbled back in surprise; _two_ Narutos raced past him, their innermost hands raised; a perfect blue sphere spun in the middle of those two hands, kicking up gale force winds. The Narutos slammed this ball into the pillar of light, which immediately flared to life and stabilized.

"Wow," Harry said. "That's like... _magic_."

There was a high-pitched twittering sound from behind them, and lightning shivered through the air and struck the dark aperture that had appeared again, forcing it open even more. Harry and Draco both turned to stare at Sasuke, who was standing calmly as he gave off incredible amounts of energy.

"Potter, do hurry!" Draco grabbed him by the arm and hustled him forward as the lightning died away.

"Thank you!" he said, waving back at Naruto and Sasuke. Naruto (only one now, how extraordinary) was waving back quite cheerfully, but Sasuke was glaring at his partner in a fairly possessive manner.

They burst through onto the other side, rolling on the stone floor; the opening in time and space slammed shut with a ringing clap.

Ron had a sulking Pratt firmly in hand. "That was amazing!" Ron exclaimed and gave Pratt a hearty shake; Pratt, who weighed about eight stone soaking wet, rattled around like a toy. "Pratt here says you two got sent to a different _dimension_ , how wild is that? And where did you get all that power?"

"We got by with a little help with new friends," Harry laughed and turned to haul Draco up. "So! What have we learned?"

"That you're weak for _any_ type of blond, you wanker," Draco snapped and grabbed their culprit out of Ron's meaty grip, stalking off and followed by the other Aurors; Ron gave Harry a puzzled look.

Harry shrugged. "It has been a day," he said as wisely as he could manage, "of _many_ helpful lessons."

 _fin_


	3. Ministry Mandated Inspections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For: [](http://enchanted-jae.livejournal.com/profile)[**enchanted_jae**](http://enchanted-jae.livejournal.com/) | [Prompt link](http://megyal.livejournal.com/377147.html?thread=9246779#t9246779)  
> 

When Draco floo'ed into his office, he frowned at the stack of parchment on his wide desk; it wasn't that he was displeased about the number of orders, but he had outlined how the orders should be copied and filed. He was going to hunt up Andrea and--

"Sir?" Andrea's wispy voice crackled through the painting on the wall, that of a cornucopia.

"I'm here, Andrea. Why aren't these orders in their proper place?" He hung up his outer robes and picked up the top sheet; his scowl deepened. 'These should have been filed _yesterday_ \--"

"Sir," Andrea cut in, still wispy, but very firm. Andrea was a fairly old wizard who was impeccably well-bred, a friend of the family... a distant cousin, to be exact. He had been a good choice for Draco's assistant when he had been starting up his private laboratories. "Sir, the Aurors are here."

Draco went still; after a few breathless moments, he inhaled sharply and straightened his back. "What are they here for?"

"Inspection, sir."

Inspection? Draco brushed at the lapels of his robes and strode to the door; when he pulled it open, he was looking down into the main work-area of the labs. There were a few cubicles on the left wall, where the senior potioneers pursued experiments that had been discussed in weekly meetings, while the rest of the large, airy room simply had long tables at which junior brewers worked at the general products. A few large extraction charms hummed near the ceiling.

While Draco was proficient in Potions (with Professor Snape, he would have been mad not to end up that way), he got bored easily with the development stage. He was far better at general management, tuning the lab's production to the wants of their customers.

Now, he was being inspected by one of his larger clients.

Andrea was standing beside the matching painting that communicated between the lab and the upstairs offices. He nodded toward three Aurors waiting nearby. Harry Potter, dressed in Muggle wear and looking impossibly young, stood with his arms folded across his chest and gazed up at him.

"Malfoy," Potter said neutrally. "This is a ministry mandated inspection."

"Is there a particular reason for this intrusion?" Draco demanded, reaching out and holding onto the handrail of the balustrade; it was the only object in the lab that was decorative. Draco had charmed it to change its design pattern every so often. Potter glanced at the balustrade as it went through one of its shifts, before his green eyes locked with Draco's again.

"Just a random check."

Draco's lips thinned, but he said nothing.

"Shall I take a look upstairs?" one of the other Aurors asked.

Potter started to nod at them, and then paused. "I'll go through Mr. Malfoy's offices myself. Be quick and don't get in the way. Just use charms to pick up on any odd magical signatures, and don't aim any spells at the cauldrons."

"Yes, sir." One of the Aurors began to walk around the tables, looking for Merlin knew what, and the other followed Potter up the gently curving stairs. Potter sent them off in the direction the meeting- and filing-room, before striding into Draco's office.

As soon as Draco shut the door, he walked over to where Potter was bending slightly to peer at the books on the shelf. From behind, he grabbed Potter's wrists, raised his hands to rest on the topmost wooden ledge, and pressed himself against Potter's back.

Potter instantly pushed back against him, groaning quietly. "You forgot a Silencing charm."

"I forgot nothing," Draco refuted, bending close to nip at his earlobe. "What is this all about, really?"

"Mmm." Harry writhed slowly, sensuously. "Bugger if I know. New Minister's got a bee in his bonnet for pureblood business, I suppose."

"So they've sent their top Auror after the big bad Malfoy, have they?"

Harry's bottom rubbed against Draco's crotch. "Big and bad. I like those attributes."

"Keep your hands there." Draco squeezed his wrists and then slid his hands down Harry's arms and sides, smiling when Harry wriggled at the tickling feel. By the time he reached around to the zipper of Harry's jeans, Harry was panting.

"Shhhh," Draco urged when Harry let out a strangled moan as he took Harry's warm cock in hand. His own prick was thickening underneath his robes at Harry's proximity, his smell, the way he trembled at Draco's touch, and how his power rolled off him.

"Auror Potter?"

Draco cursed under his breath; they were so close, Harry stifling his moans. Still, he moved his hand faster, gathering a bit of the leaking pre-cum and snapping his wrist just the way Harry liked it.

"Auror Potter? Are you alright?"

"I'm... fine," Harry breathed out faintly, and then removed one hand to clamp over his mouth, shuddering. He made a funny little sound when Draco bit the back of his neck, going briefly limp against Draco's body.

Then he turned around to look up in Draco's face, cheeks flushed. "Wait, did you--"

"Auror Potter... we've finished, sir."

Harry's lips quirked. "So have I. I'll be right out."

Draco stepped away from him, watching as he cast quick freshening spells. He was still hard, and Potter was going to pay when he visited Draco's flat later. Indeed, he was.

"I'm sorry." Harry touched his face, his arms, giving him a quick kiss and an apologetic look. "We have to inspect four more businesses that affiliate with the Ministry."

"I do hope you don't inspect them the way you've inspected me." Draco adjusted himself in an obvious manner, and Harry's expression became even more remorseful. "You're thorough in only a few aspects." He put out a hand, placing it on the side of Harry's neck and squeezing lightly. "Remind me later, Potter, to show you how one inspects in an _exhaustive_ manner."

Harry laughed quietly, but his eyes were shining. "Of course, Mr. Malfoy. I look forward to that."

 _fin_


	4. CurseMark, opening for Fall Out Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crossover: Bandom [Fall Out Boy]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For: [](http://marginaliana.livejournal.com/profile)[**marginaliana**](http://marginaliana.livejournal.com/) | [Prompt link](http://megyal.livejournal.com/377147.html?thread=9244987#t9244987)

Pete stood in the wings and smiled to himself, watching CurseMark tear up the stage. The lead singer was super-crazy, leaping all over the place before going to the mike to sing in a raspy voice... the voice of a smoker, or one who used to be one. The crowd had been doubtful at first, apart from a few individuals who screamed when Jamie had grinned and said, "Hey, Milwaukee, we're British. Show us some fuckin' love, yeah?"

The crowd had warmed up plenty, though. CurseMark was _good_ , in a gritty, cynical manner; they also had a streak of sweet honesty that was surprising. When Pete had heard them for the first time, he had pulled a lot of strings and hacked through a lot of red tape to get them on the Multiverse Tour. It was going to be insane when they flew over to the UK to start the European leg; CurseMark was pretty huge over there.

Patrick was beside Pete, hands perched on his hips as he nodded to the beat.

He turned his head, leaned close and yelled, "You were right," into Pete's ear.

"Of course I'm right!" Pete shouted in reply, already entertaining visions of Patrick in the studio with CurseMark. Between Patrick's Powers of Awesome and CurseMark's sheer wall of sound, they couldn't go wrong.

Jamie whipped around, his black hair plastered against his pale forehead. As he walked over to the lead guitarist, he caught Pete's eye and winked.

Patrick groaned, and Pete winked back.

*

"Hi!" Pete chirped as the door of CurseMark's bus cracked open slightly. "I just wanted to see Jamie, if that's okay."

There was a long pause and then someone said, "Hang on a mo'," and the door closed again. Pete glanced around, hoping no-one saw him skulking around another band's bus. He saw a strange flash out of the corner of his eye and Pete gazed back at the bus again, frowning. The door pushed open once more, and the other band-members trooped out.

"Where're you guys going?" Pete laughed, stepping aside.

"We're a bit peckish," said their drummer, a dark-haired dude named Michael. The one with the platinum blond hair (that was _definitely_ from a bottle, Pete decided firmly) gave Pete a frosty glare, followed by a smile that was more sneer than anything else.

"We'll leave you two all by your lonesome," he said; Pete was sure he was called Drake, and he was the guitarist that Jamie leaned against more often than not. The bassist, the youngest dude in their band, was so cutely excited by everything. He made to dart off, but Drake clamped a strong pale hand over his shoulder.

"Take care of Dennis, Drake," Jamie said from behind Pete and smiled when Pete turned around to look at him.

"Yes, mum," Drake answered, rolling his eyes, and they all strolled towards the gates of the venue, where a few straggling fans were waiting.

"Hey, maybe they shouldn't--"

"They'll be all right. Come on up."

Pete watched the three men doubtfully, and raised his eyebrows when the fans, instead of yelling, began to walk off as if they forgot they had left the stove on at home.

"Are you sure they should be going out so late? You know, I'm gonna get you some bodyguards or--"

"Trust me, they can take care of themselves." Jamie leaned down, curled his fingers around Pete's bicep and pulled him up the three steps into the bus, closing the door firmly. "Welcome to CurseMark's 'crib'."

"Is this where the magic happens?" Pete joked and gave Jamie a curious look as he stumbled. "What's wrong, man?"

"It's just... yes, exactly, this is where the magic happens." Jamie sounded strained, his green eyes searching Pete's face. Pete was puzzled, and it must have shown in his face, because Jamie visibly relaxed. He tilted his head towards the rooms and set off. Pete followed him and made a noise of surprise when he noticed that there were only two bedrooms.

"Wow, so you guys share?" he asked when Jamie opened one door and stepped in.

Jamie paused; he and the rest of his band seemed to have a slight delay in all their interactions, as if they were thinking about what proper responses should be. Pete figured it was a British thing.

"Well, we have ways of making it a bit more roomy," Jamie answered and sat on the bed, pushing over a pile of clothing and some papers. "Sometimes it feels like we have our own spaces."

Pete sat down, his gaze flickering all over the place, taking everything in. Joe always said that part of Pete's success was that he was really nosy, but Pete liked to think he was just observant. He eyed a photograph pinned to the back of the door, showing Jamie standing in a small garden with a tall, red-haired man and a woman with a lot of brown, wavy hair. There were wide grins on all three faces, and Jamie sported a pair of glasses.

"My best friends," Jamie said quietly. "Ron and Hermione."

"Oh, awesome."

"They're surprised that I'm so into the whole band thing," Jamie said, brushing his hair over his forehead in a manner that was familiar to Pete; he'd seen Patrick do that same nervous action with his sideburns and hair. "But they're supportive... especially about Drake."

"What, you guys were enemies or something?" Pete shifted close, pressing against Jamie's side.

Jamie laughed. "In school, we were both massive berks. We used to play against each other in, uh, matches, get into scraps in the halls... good times, you know?"

Pete was almost in his lap. "Good times," he muttered, and grinned when Jamie turned his head and leaned close.

"You know, if I'm going to suck you off then you may as well call me Harry," Jamie said and kissed him.

*

Jamie--Harry--sucked cock like he had a degree in it, and reduced Pete to a quivering mess. Pete lay on the bed, clutching at the rumpled sheets and trying not to buck up into Harry's wet, warm mouth or tear out handfuls of his own hair. Harry bobbed his head in Pete's lap, pressing a finger into that spot just behind his balls and Pete came with a hoarse shout.

He lay in a boneless heap when Harry shuffled up over him, and moaned weakly when Harry kissed him, sloppy, lazy. Harry moved his head into the crook of Pete's neck; Pete could feel the movement of his hand and arm as he jacked off.

"Yeah," Pete urged; he reached down between them and touched Harry's wrist. He moved his hand so he could rub his thumb over the leaking slit of Harry's cock, eclipsed rhythmically by the tight circle of his fist. He was still squeamish over other dudes' cocks, but he was trying to get over it. "Come on, yeah."

Harry's teeth sank into the skin of his neck as his come flicked out over Pete's bare belly and weakly twitching cock.

"Damn," Pete said after they wiped up themselves and lay side by side on the bed.

"Yeah," Harry said with a smirk and Pete punched him in the shoulder lightly; smirking was _his_ forte.

They lay there for a comfortable while, and then Harry said, "You know, where I'm from, I'm known for being a hero when I didn't really do much."

Pete snorted, and then laughed. " _What_?"

"Yeah. Nearly got killed when I was a baby and then got all caught up in a war when I was still a teenager. CurseMark is all about _me_... at least, the me I can live with."

"I get it," Pete said. He did. Fall Out Boy was all about the Pete he could stand, too. "Wait, what war?"

Harry leaned over the side of the bed, searching for something. "A grand stand-off between the forces of good and evil. Wizards and witches, dragons and goblins. It was right insane."

Pete said, "What the fuck are you _on_?" but he was seriously tickled. He liked crazy people.

Harry turned back to him, a slender stick in his hand that he pointed at Pete, whose eyes crossed to stare at the tip of it. He didn't appear to want to poke Pete in the eye with it, which was good.

"You're lovely, Pete. I think you're more of a hero in some ways than I am," Harry said and before Pete could ask what he was talking about and what he was going to do with that stick, when Harry murmured, " _Obliviate_."

 _fin_


	5. Until Tomorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For: [](http://winnett.livejournal.com/profile)[**winnett**](http://winnett.livejournal.com/) | [Prompt link](http://megyal.livejournal.com/377147.html?thread=9242683#t9242683)  
> 

**1\. moving on**  
"How about this one?" Harry pointed to a page in the smart portfolio; the photgraph of the property rotated at a brisk pace, showing off the angles of the cottage with its whitewashed walls; Harry liked the expanse of wild, grassy land, the tall mountains almost foreboding in the background at some moments in the image. It seemed secluded and cosy at the same time, and it appealed to him. Then, he glanced up at Draco's expressionless face and felt his heart sink.

"You hate it," he said and looked back down at the photo, hating how tiny his voice sounded. He swallowed hard and turned the page.

"I don't hate it," Draco said, but his tone was flat.

Harry bit his bottom lip, turning the page again. He had specifically asked to see smaller cottages, thinking that it would be so amazing for just the two of them after their bonding ceremony; they could Apparate to their new home after the happy occasion and make love in their new bed. It would be perfect.

However, as the weeks of planning went by, Draco became more and more... distant. Harry couldn't understand it. Every question he asked was met with a polite coolness, and it baffled him. Of course Draco carried his weight with the planning, more than, since Harry was pants at making sure things were where they supposed to be and at their proper time, but...

"This one?" Harry asked, looking at a light pink house that was located in Worcester. It was a little larger than the others, but very comfortable-looking.

"Not bad," Draco hedged and looked at Harry as he closed the portfolio.

Harry took a very deep breath and said, "Look. It's... do you want to marry me, or not?"

He hadn't expected a ringing yell of affirmation... but he blinked at the silence that spun out between them. Harry stared at Draco's blank mask, which was actually showing some cracks at the corners.

"Harry," Draco began and stopped. He turned his head slightly to one side and twitched his shoulders. "Harry," he said again, as if he couldn't say anything else.

Harry pushed at the edge of the portfolio with one finger, feeling as if his world was falling apart. It _had_ been a whirlwind courtship, just a few months of intense dating, but Harry had never been so sure as the day when he'd asked Draco to take that step with him. He remembered the day; they'd been at the park near the Ministry, and Draco's hair had been whipping in the crisp breeze, grey eyes wide with surprise when Harry took his hand. They were both so young, but Harry was completely _positive_.

"We can... we can push back the date," Harry suggested now, feeling desperation curdle in his stomach. "If you want."

"I don't know, Harry," Draco said, looking away. There was now a gentleness in his tone that was breaking Harry's heart, because it was obvious he was trying not to hurt Harry too much. "That's the thing. I don't know... if we wed later rather than sooner, I fear I will still feel this way."

"What way?" Harry snapped, struggling with the quick spike in his temper. "Just--all of a sudden, after all these months--"

"It isn't all of a sudden," Draco said, very sharply and Harry pressed his lips together. Draco sighed. "How does one say 'no' to Harry Potter? Why would _anyone_ say no?"

Harry went cold. The way Draco said it, as if Harry should never be refused... he found he didn't like that at all. He reached out and touched Draco's closest hand, a brief press of fingers.

"It's as if you'll just... swallow me whole," Draco murmured. His back was ramrod straight, but his eyes were downcast. "I'll be the Man who Married Harry Potter."

What was so wrong with that, Harry wanted to know, but he would do anything to make that tightness at the corner of Draco's eyes go away.

"I don't want you to be with me because you feel you have to," Harry said, and closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, he met Draco's worried gaze with his own. "I want you to be happy."

Draco gazed at him for a very long time, then nodded slowly. "I... thank you."

Harry nodded as well; he got up and left the kitchen. He had a lot of calls to make; the way he was feeling now, he was sure he wouldn't be able to talk to a soul tomorrow.

*

 **2\. something brighter and better**  
Harry peered through the shelves of potions in the new Apothecary that had just opened in Diagon, hoping to find relief for a weird rash at the back of his neck. Hermione had tut-tutted over it this morning and had promised to whip up something later, but the itch was just too much for him to bear.

"Bugger it," he cursed, rubbing at his neck because he feared that if he got his nails into the action, he'd break skin.

"Harry," a smooth voice said from the counter-end of the small shop; surprised, Harry walked down the tiny passage-way created by the rows of shelves. He stopped short when he saw Draco standing near a pretty young witch at the till. Draco gave him a quick smile. "Hello. How are you?"

"This place's yours?" Harry found that he could return the smile easily; their broken engagement had left him feeling as if he was made up of sharp edges, but little by little, he had gotten over it. He supposed that working for Charlie on the dragon reserve had helped to take his mind away from the hurt of it all.

Draco nodded. "All mine," he said. "This and two shops in Paris, and one other in Málaga."

There was such a quiet, assured pride in his voice; Harry wondered if, had they been married, would Draco's achievements would have meant so much to him. He had removed himself from the taint of his family's name and made it his own again, all by himself. Harry would have pushed and pulled to have any of Draco's projects go through and... and maybe that would have been wrong for him.

He was right to have let Draco go.

"That's brill, Draco." Harry rubbed at the back of his neck again. "Would you happen to have anything for a rash?"

"Let me see." Draco motioned to him, and when Harry stepped close, he placed his hands on Harry's shoulders and turned him around. Harry bent his head and felt Draco's fingers brush away his hair. "Ah, this is a nasty-looking thing. Why haven't you been to the Healers with this?"

"It's just a rash." Harry tried not to shiver of Draco's hands on him; it felt a little like coming home. "I didn't want a fuss."

"I see. Have you been using a new scent?"

Harry started to shake his head, then stopped. "Not new... well, I couldn't get the one I usually use, but the bloke told me it's in the same line as the _Acqua di Oltretorrente_ \--"

"You still use that?" Draco's fingers pressed near to his rash, obviously due to his surprise. Harry winced. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Harry said. "I mean, I haven't stopped using it since you got me a bottle that one time. But I guess this other cologne would be the problem?"

"Maybe not by itself."

Harry froze as a soft breath feathered across the back of his neck. Was Draco... _smelling_ him?

"Ah. You had this shirt sent off to some launderers, right?"

"Yeah, I did." Harry removed himself from Draco's grip before he could embarrass himself and turned around to face him, smiling wryly. "Got a terrible stain on it the other day from one of Charlie's new dragonlets, wouldn't budge no matter what spell I threw at it. So off to Haveringtons, it was."

Draco smirked as if he'd solved a grand mystery. He turned to his assistant and said something to her in rapid French. She slid off her stool and went to the back of the store, where Harry heard her rummage about.

"The strong cleaning spells they used reacted with your cologne," Draco explained and held out a hand for the small bottle that the witch returned with. He glanced down at it, nodding at the label before pulling out the stopper and pouring a bit of the thick white substance over his fingers. "Here, let's try this."

Harry obligingly turned around again; he had to bite his tongue so he wouldn't moan at how the itch seemed to melt away when the cream was rubbed into his skin, not to mention the firm press of Draco's hands. A minty smell pervaded the air and Harry inhaled deeply.

"This is a miracle," Harry breathed out when Draco was finished. "Merlin. How much?"

"For you?" Draco packaged the rest of what Harry was privately calling The Potion of Amazing in a neat little green box. "Consider it a gift."

Harry grinned. "Thanks!" He took the box and saluted awkwardly, shuffling towards the door. "Well... I'll just be out of here, then--"

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" Draco asked quickly and then blinked, as if he had surprised himself with that question.

Harry stared at him with his mouth open. After a few beats, he carefully closed it. "Draco, I don't--"

"I understand." Draco's smile quick and tight. "I'm... that was awfully presumptuous of me, wasn't it? I'm sure you're seeing someone right now, it was wrong of me to assume."

"There isn't anyone right now," Harry said quietly. Draco nodded, gazing off to one side.

"I really wouldn't blame you for not wanting to... start over," Draco muttered and Harry wanted to laugh out loud. Oh, if Draco only _knew_.

"Floo me later," Harry told him. "I don't know about today, but... tomorrow."

Draco smiled. "Very well. Tomorrow."

 _fin_   



	6. Maybe he won't find out what I know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For: [](http://fauxpersonae007.livejournal.com/profile)[**fauxpersonae007**](http://fauxpersonae007.livejournal.com/) | [Prompt link](http://megyal.livejournal.com/377147.html?thread=9241915#t9241915)

Harry waited until Draco rose from his table and headed off in the direction of the men's.

Ginny said, "Well, here's your chance," and gave Harry a quick thumbs-up when he smiled weakly. "Off you go. Man up, now."

"You sound like Molly," Harry informed her and left her at their own table making horrible faces. Harry slipped around the corner, barely noticing the highly polished stone walls and pushed open the bright red door. Malfoy was already at the sink, washing his hands and he turned his head, pinning Harry in one place at the threshold with his sharp grey gaze.

"Harry," Draco said, scrubbing his hands industriously; his tone was even, almost cool. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, very long," Harry agreed and almost cringed at how inane he sounded. He stepped in all the way, trying to be nonchalant as he went in the direction of the urinal. He wanted to see if Draco was watching him through the mirror, but couldn't seem to bring himself to turn around. Funny; he'd been able to throw spells at a Dark Lord, but wasn't able to see if his colleague and crush was checking his arse out a bit.

He was therefore a little disappointed when he finally shook off and turned around to see that Draco's eyes were focused on his hands, from which he was flicking off extra water.

"How's work?" Harry stepped over quickly to get his own hands clean. He didn't want Draco to leave yet, but it seemed as if he was about to, despite all of Harry's desperate wishes.

"Work is going well, thank you." Draco drew his wand and swept a quick warming charm over his hands, one at a time.

"Funny how you washed your hands the Muggle way," Harry noted almost shyly.

"Date a Muggle-born doctor and you pick up all sorts of odd habits." A brief smile touched his thin lips as he took a step back. "Well, I ought to--"

"Where is he, by the way?" Harry asked quickly, grabbing out some towels from the dispenser and wiping his hands with what seemed like twelve of them at once. Draco frowned slightly at this and then arched his eyebrow at Harry, a question. "Dr Costa? That's your, uh, boyfriend, right?"

Draco smiled at him again, but more widely this time and Harry tried not to look too thunderstruck at the loveliness of it.

"Keeping an eye on me, Potter?" Draco said, but there was no rancor in it. "He's probably... I actually don't know where he is," he admitted, sounding light on the top layer and self-deprecating on the bottom. "The life of a doctor... more likely there's an emergency."

"But you've been waiting a while, and he hasn't sent a message," Harry pointed out. "I wouldn't let you wait at all."

Draco stared at him, then his expression softened into something more indulgent. "But you aren't him."

"That's a pity," Harry said. "I would love to be him, to be honest."

Draco looked as if Harry had knocked him over with a feather-charm. His eyes were wide, lashes fluttering ever so slightly.

"Alright." Harry's voice was soft when he realized that Draco wasn't going to say anything. "Good night... see you around."

He was already in his own seat, enduring Ginny's curious pinches when Draco took his own seat at a nearby table.

"What's the story?" Ginny demanded and graduated to poking Harry in the ribs. "What did he say?"

"Nothing, really." Harry stared at the curve of Draco's neck; Draco turned his head and looked him right in the eye. He glanced over at Ginny, but when his gaze snapped back, Harry was waiting for him with all the answers he would need.

"There," Ginny said, voice filled with a gloating satisfaction. "Didn't I tell you that you just have to put yourself out there?"

Harry watched as a tall man swept inside the restaurant; Draco rose to his feet and received a quick kiss that barely touched the skin of his cheek. When they sat down again, the waiter brought over the menus and handed them over with an understated grace.

Draco's doctor bent his dark head to peruse the items; Draco looked at Harry over the top of his menu... and grinned.

 _fin_   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ **AN:** I was listening to an [acoustic version of Grand Theft Autumn](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MbtCPhzPgEU) all through this. Ah, memories.]   
> 


	7. It's my party (I'll cry if I want to)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Draco's party, and he has his sights set on a little dark-haired boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for tigerblak's prompt at one of my birthday posts: [Prompt link](http://megyal.livejournal.com/286116.html?thread=7407780#t7407780).  
>  Young!Harry and Young!Draco; AU.

"Now, we don't have to stay long, Lils. You know that, right?" James Potter asked a little anxiously as he watched her kneeling on the floor and pulling a bright red t-shirt over Harry's head; his wild mop of black hair emerged from the neck of the shirt, even as his little arms poked haphazardly through the armholes. His eyes, bright green as his mother's, finally peeped out, considering them both with all the mischief that an almost five-year-old could manage.

"I know," Lily said shortly, and took Harry's little jeans from the bed. "But we'll leave when Harry's ready. Right, Harry?"

Harry grinned up at her and stepped obediently into the jeans as she held them out. Lily smiled down at him, but as soon as he bent to fetch his trainers from under his bed, she turned and gave James a scowl.

James groaned to himself. It was wonderful that Narcissa had managed to convince her husband to defect to the Order, thereby warning them of Voldemort's plot to murder them and their sweet little boy... a plot that had nearly come to fruition despite all their caution; it was also quite fine that he and Lucius got along fairly well at the Ministry; but Lily still had a huge chip on her shoulder when it came to the Malfoys. James had always tried to explain that nearly all purebloods had very set prejudices regarding Muggleborn wizards and witches, prejudices that they had made no attempt to hide before Voldemort's insane plans. Honestly, nowadays the Malfoys were (probably) learning to acknowledge, if not outright accept Lily into their circle.

Lily usually snapped at him, "I don't want to even _be_ in their damned circle anyway, James."

"Dam' circle," Harry had piped up after one of her rants and Lily had shushed him with a slightly guilty expression, even as they both looked pleased that Harry was speaking. After Voldemort's attack on their house, where he and Dumbledore had fought desperately, Voldemort had aimed a spell at their baby. To their shock (especially Voldemort's), Harry had generated some kind of rudimentary, reflexive self-defence; it had been an inexpert attempt, but the sheer power behind it had blocked most of the spell, although some sharp edge of magic had sliced into his little forehead, scarring it. The scar was faded, but Harry had not begun speaking at his age-level until quite recently; the Healers had claimed that it was due to the trauma he had undergone at such a young age. So, every word was eagerly encouraged by his parents.

Like these: "Ready, ready, ready," Harry chanted under his breath as he sat on his bum and tied his laces laboriously; when Lily tried to help, he gave her a censorious look from under his long, thick lashes. He turned away, stuck out his tongue in deep concentration and continued by himself.

"Ready!" He announced again when he was satisfied with the large loops he had created, standing up and smiling up at her. _How could they want to kill him_ , James thought to himself as Lily took his hand and they went past him to go down to the Floo. He remembered what Narcissa had said when she and Lucius had met with the Order: _I have my own son. He should not grow in a world with Voldemort in it._

"Well?" Lily's voice floated up from downstairs, shaking James out of his musing. "James, you heard what Harry said. We're ready!"

*

Lily sipped at her drink and gave the purebred women around her a tight smile, managing to keep an eye on Harry playing with the other children. She did not care for any of these women at all, but Narcissa had invited Harry to Draco's fifth birthday party and James had argued that it would be good for Harry to interact with magical children. Currently, Harry was in a Muggle primary school, but they would soon have to move him to a Wizarding one; Harry's baby-magic was wilder than most.

Lily just wanted him to know what it was like to be Muggle… to have respect and empathy for people without magic. As long as she lived, Lily vowed, she would not have her son lording his magic over those who deserved their protection the most. She would fight with everything she had to prevent him from becoming a snooty little pureblood.

Like the Malfoy scion, she noted, frowning a little as she watched Draco advance upon her boy with flinty-eyed intent. Draco was dressed as a proper little pureblood, with a ridiculously massive, ruffled collar and long, embroidered robes. She tensed as he reached out a pale hand and grabbed Harry's fringe, pulling it up from his forehead to inspect the scar. Harry blinked at him in surprise.

Lily was about to step forward and go pull them apart, expecting a spoilt tirade from Draco, when Harry reached out his own chubby hands and pulled on Draco's hair. Harry was small for his age, but he had apparently yanked with all his strength and Draco wailed in pain.

"What in the world--" Narcissa looked over her shoulder and then turned to glare at Lily as she handed her glass to a nearby house-elf. "Tell me, Lily darling, why has your son assaulted mine? One would think he hadn't been taught proper Wizarding manners."

"Possibly not, Narcissa darling," Lily said sweetly, "but he has been taught to fight back when being persecuted. Gryffindor parents, you see."

Narcissa gave her a smile that was really a sneer and spun on her heel to go after the boys; Lily was right on her heels, so close that she bumped into Narcissa when she came to dead stop. Lily peered over her shoulder: Harry and Draco were on the ground, but they weren’t rolling about in a childish fistfight. Draco was knuckling at his eyes, still bawling, but Harry had his arms around him, petting the blond hair and the ridiculous collar, crooning wordlessly. He even kissed Draco on the cheek.

Quickly, Draco's tears dried up. He pouted up at Harry, who kissed him again ( _blast your sweet nature, Harry_ , Lily thought in affectionate despair), before they both scrambled to their feet and raced off towards the long refreshment table. Draco was chattering at him, while Harry remained mostly silent as usual, but his wide smiles at Draco Malfoy spoke volumes.

"Hmm." Narcissa turned and stared at Lily in resignation. "I suppose they're going to be best friends and torture us with their unending dedication to each other."

"Knowing my luck," Lily said wryly, "you're probably right."

 _fin_


	8. Freedom of the Press

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reporter tries to get his scoop on Draco and Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A birthday prompt written for winnett@LJ: [Prompt link](http://megyal.livejournal.com/286116.html?thread=7408804#t7408804)

"Alright, have you set up the camera?" Evan Wiles frowned at his assistant impressively. He managed to do this without moving any of his features (he didn't want to get wrinkles), but his face still radiated waves of disapproval at the perceived speed, or lack thereof, from Jeanette, who was new and didn't know anything as far as Evan was concerned. No matter; Evan was here to get his story. Even if that meant skulking around the bushes in the magical park where Harry Potter was said to frequent on Wednesdays with his children, Evan would do it. Sacrifice! Hard work! He had clawed his way to the top of the heap of investigative Wizarding reporting, even going head to head with that abominable Rita Skeeter.

There was nothing Evan would not do to get his story… especially when the story involved Harry Potter. Who was it that had discovered about the divorce by staking out the Potter household for six weeks straight? Yes, that had been Evan Wiles. Who was it that reported Harry Potter's tentative attempts at dating with the fervour of a zealot, gleefully outlining that Harry seemed to have no particular sexual preference? Evan Wiles. He was the Man with The Story, and he worked very hard give it to The People.

When he was writing his memoirs, he would be _sure_ to use that line.

Jeanette nodded now and opened her palm; the 'camera', a disembodied magical eye, floated up above her hand and blinked at them.

Evan said, "That is so nasty. I hate those things, but it's a necessary evil."

Jeanette just gave him a look. Evan glared at her in return and shooed her off into the thickest part of the bushes. "Go on, that's a good girl. Make sure you get a good angle."

"But Evan--"

"I know there are ants and such, but I must get The Story! This is the sacrifice I make for my ever-faithful fans."

Jeanette crawled into the thicket, grumbling under her breath. Evan trotted down a bit, and peered through a more sparse section, grinning widely. Harry Potter was being greeted by his two younger children. The middle child, Albus Severus, was hugging him tightly before the youngest, the girl called Lily Luna, shoved her brother away and gave Harry a rib-cracking hug of her own. Evan prided himself on knowing everything there was to know about the Potter children: the stories behind their names, their heights and shoe-sizes…. even what kind of sweets they liked to buy at Honeyduke's. He even knew that the eldest, James (who was now giving his father a wry grin as Harry ruffled his hair) was a fairly good Beater, and had been secretly contacted by Puddlemere United. 'Secretly', ha! As long as Evan Wiles, the Man with the Story, was around, no secret kept in shredded envelopes at the bottom of garbage-bins was safe.

He watched avidly as Harry and his children walked around the park's well-maintained path, talking and laughing. Harry's red Auror robes flared out in the breeze now and again, revealing his shirt and trousers. The wind also tossed those famously messy strands, revealing streaks of grey. Evan took note of this quite carefully.

After Potter had pulled a meal out of a small basket, and they'd all sat on a blanket and ate, the children said their goodbyes and the eldest Apparated them away.

"Can we go now?" Jeanette whined from where she had been crouched for more than three hours. "I'm really hungry, Evan, and the camera is tired."

"Wait a moment," Evan said through a mouthful of energy bar that he had resized from his pocket. "My reporter-senses are tingling."

Jeanette said, "That's from Spider-man, you know," but Evan flapped a hand at her in annoyance. His instincts were simply awesome, for in that very moment, Draco Malfoy popped into existence, looking down his long, sharp nose at Harry Potter, who was still seated on his blanket.

"I knew it!" Evan crowed in a triumphant whisper. Malfoy was a barrister on the Wizengamot and assigned to the Auror department as a legal counsellor. He was Evan's nemesis, a thorn in Evan's side. He had nearly every important tidbit of information on Harry Potter under a lockdown that was so completely impassable, it was probably envied by Azkaban. Important points, like the details of Harry's divorce, or the missions he went on before heading the Auror department, or even what his activities had been before the Great Battle at Hogwarts. These things were important! The People must know!

And Evan was the man to tell them. He would get Jeanette to send the camera a bit closer; possibly, Malfoy would be passing on a detail on some high-ranking case, and Evan would be able to get in on it. Honestly, his brilliance knew no bounds.

"I think we should leave," Jeanette said in a subdued voice as Malfoy hunkered down, hands dangling between his legs. Harry gave him a small smile, and Malfoy's elegantly pale hands moved as he spoke. "Evan? Maybe we need to--"

"Fear not, Janine--"

"Jeanette."

"--but Malfoy is not aware that we are here. Hold the fort, Jasmine--"

" _Jeanette_."

"--and I will have My Story."

He was about to go on about how important it was for the People to know everything they desired about Harry Potter, for he was their Hero and therefore public property, when he opened his eyes so wide, they nearly fell out of his head. Draco Malfoy, who was one of the coldest and most hard-hearted persons that Evan had ever had the temerity to go up against, had shifted forward onto his knees, his dark robes pooled around him, and had placed a quick, gentle kiss on Harry's mouth.

"Evan, let's go _now_."

No; oh no, no, _no_ , they could not leave now, not at all. This was the story of… of the Millenium! Evan could already see the headlines: _AUROR POTTER IN CLANDESTINE MEETING WITH WIZARDING ATTORNEY MALFOY. Story by Evan Napoleon Wiles. Edited by E.N. Wiles. Photos by E.N. Wiles._ Rita Skeeter would probably have a heart-attack at this.

Or, he could use this information against Malfoy. If he didn't give Evan the information he wanted about Harry's actions during and after the War, he could spin this to make it look as if Harry's divorce had been caused by sneaking around with Malfoy. Malfoy was a pureblood and that kind of exposure would embarrass him horribly. He could almost taste the fear that would exude from the pointy-nosed prat when Evan showed him the footage from today, the way he was kissing Potter with a sort of need that bordered on desperation--

"Thank you, Jeanette," someone said smoothly from behind Evan, who started so violently, he nearly fell into the bushes. "You've done very well."

Jeanette scrambled to her feet, and summoned the eye from where it had been hovering in tree above Malfoy and Harry Potter. She held it out and Malfoy took it from her with a smile. He had Apparated behind Evan quite soundlessly.

"Hello, Mr. Wiles. I seem to recall filing a restraining order against your person, which outlines that you should not be within a certain radius of Mr. Harry Potter. You might not have had the chance to measure the distance, but I fear you are breaking the terms of the order."

"Well!" Evan sputtered and then fell into a guilty silence.

"Yes, well," Malfoy said in a very cool voice. "I suppose that since this is the first time, I will not inform Azkaban officials about your illegal activities." As Evan felt the blood drain from his face, Malfoy's grey eyes flickered to a spot over Evan's shoulder. Amazingly, those shards of ice melted briefly and he threw the camera in Evan's direction. A strong hand snatched it out of the air right in front of the reporter's face and Evan began to hyperventilate because Harry Potter was _right beside him_.

Harry Potter held the eye in his palm and stroked it gently with his other hand. It wriggled and then spun slowly in his palm, and wisps of gauzy images floated up out of it and disappeared; Harry put the eye very carefully inside his pocket. Later, Evan would mourn the loss of all his footage; right now, he was trying hard not to squeal as those green eyes weighed him.

"Good day, Mr. Wiles," Harry murmured and spun on his heel, disappearing in a silent displacement of time and space.

"Bye, Evan," Jeanette, that traitor, chirped. "I'll see you in the office, Mr. Malfoy? I have quite a lot to tell you."

At Malfoy's nod, Jeanette Apparated away as well, a noisy flash of smoke and light. Malfoy gazed at Evan for a long time; Evan found it hard to look at his face. It seemed he would be turned to ice, or stone by those grey eyes. Malfoy didn't need to verbalise how much he could make Evan suffer... his eyes promised a world of pain if Evan even _whispered_ anything else unfavourable about Harry Potter.

A Malfoy, Evan decided belatedly, was a very dangerous thing.

"Wonderful," Malfoy said in satisfaction, as if he and Evan had a very long and intense conversation. He nodded briefly, his pale hair remaining obediently in place as he did so, and snapped out of view as well.

Evan Wiles, Reporter Extraordinaire, came to the very firm conclusion that maybe the People didn't have to know everything, anyway.

 _fin_


End file.
